The Weight On Her Shoulders
by leangrypeanut
Summary: It's there, just on the edge of her fingertips, this promise of so much more for all of them, something they've all wanted for so long without even knowing- a family. Or, the fic where Carole and Finn both work to fix things with the Hummel men.


AN: Inspired by the following prompt:_ because there is no way finn made the red "showercurtain" dress himself, I'm 100% sure carole helped him. I'd love it if carole told burt (and kurt?) about how she found finn sitting on the bathroom floor cutting into a shower curtain. feel free to include flashbacks._

I needed inspiration for the Blended Family fill for the Klaine_Games Scavenger Hunt, and this is what came of it.

If this makes no sense, I apologize. There might have been some Vicodin and a four day migraine involved. There might also be an overdose of motherly love in this fic. Again, blame it on the Vicodin.

This is my first non Klaine fanfic! Wow, go me.

* * *

><p>"You'll never believe what happened last night." Carole is smiling, wrapping the cord of the phone around her hand, stopping when the movement almost tugs it out the receiver. The phone is ancient, an old wall phone she never replaced with a cordless. There never seemed to be extra money for those kinds of little changes; before Burt and Kurt had come along, she'd never really cared to make even the littlest changes. Felt alive enough to want to make any changes, big or small.<p>

"Hmm?" Burt makes an interrogatory noise in the background. They were back to talking, cautiously, on the phone; stuck in the fragile territory between love for their kids and the desire to have this thing, this wonderful new thing, to themselves.

And she wants it, this; this wonderful man and the family they could maybe make. This whirlwind and chaos of two teenage boys, the lingering tug inside that is Burt, his fingers and touches and lips and heart. She's tired of being alone, exhausted by the strain of raising her son alone, shouldering the uncertainty and responsibility and worry of raising a boy into a man without any guidelines or rule books. She can only hope that Burt might be able to find a small amount of humor and forgiveness in her story, a little to extend toward Finn, so that they can try to move forward from this.

"Finn, honey, what are you doing?" Carole knocked softly on the bathroom door. It had been left a little open; it was half past one in the morning and she'd been awoken by the sounds muttered curses and a few ominous thumps.

"Mom?" Finn's voice was quiet. Assuming it was safe, Carole pushed the door open, gasping out a little laugh at the sight that greeted her. Finn was hunched in the space between the tub and the sink, absolutely drowning under piles of red plastic. Red plastic that had, up until recently, been her shower curtain.

"Finn." He looked up, sensing danger. "Why are you cutting my shower curtain apart?" Her voice was deceptively calm; Finn knew from experience that his mom only sounded like this about four seconds before a major explosion.

"Don't freak out ok? Please? I have an explanation, I swear!" He held out his hands, one still gripping the scissors, the other, mysteriously, covered in…glitter? Carole squinted, and then looked again. Yes, it was definitely glitter. Glitter that was, in fact, everywhere. A small vial of the stuff was belly over on the counter, thousands of sparkles spilling over the white Formica. There was glitter in her sons' hair, on the floor, trailing all over what had once been a garish, if not serviceable, shower curtain. She sighed, holding out her hand. Taking the scissors, she motioned him up.

"Come on, let's get you out of here. Whatever you're doing can be done in the kitchen while you explain. But please, for the love of god, try to leave the glitter in here….no here, Finn..wait…ugh." She groaned as he tripped, tangled in the shower curtain, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the edge of the counter. Some strange mix of emotion was flooding her; it was a mix she often thought only a mother could feel; it was a mixture of love and pride and exasperation and _god, I can't believe he's mine._

By the time Finn had managed to brush the majority of the glitter off and had settled himself at the kitchen table, Carole had made him a grilled cheese sandwich. It might have been almost two in the morning, but her boy was always hungry. The sandwich also had the added bonus of distracting him, so that she might get some clear answers. Pouring some milk for him, she sat.

"Ok, so I need to ask, what kind of project your teacher assigned to have you tearing up my shower curtain?" She waited as Finn blushed,

"Well, no, it wasn't a teacher…I mean it was, Mr. Schue- well for Glee, see, we…well the girls and Kurt I guess-" He paused to gulp down his milk, "Mr. Shue wanted us to learn about theatricality this week. So the girls and Kurt all did the Lady Gaga thing…well you know about that part." He looked down, lines of shame etched into his skin.

"Mom, I feel really bad. I'm so sorry," His eyes were wide, and god, so young, as he chanced a look at her. She bit her lip, holding his hand. He son was short sighted, yes. He did things that absolutely baffled her, and he'd done something that had really hurt someone she cared about. Well, more than one person; over these past months she'd not only fallen in love with Burt, but had come to really love Kurt as well. But he was her son. He was still the sweetest thing she had ever known, her love for him the deepest and most abiding thing in her whole life.

"I'm so sorry I disappointed you," He was gripping her hand hard, still speaking, "I'm sorry I let you down, and Burt," His voice broke a little, and she knew that he had been starting to think of Burt as a father, and it hurts her, deep inside, a sympathetic pain that comes straight from Finn. Because he's her child, and when he hurts, she can't help but hurt as well. Her heart is tied to him, tied up in this boy who is not quite a man, still so much a child. Finn was clinging to her as she stood, hugging his head to her belly, whispering apology and remorse into the soothing give of her body.

"And I'm really sorry I said that to Kurt. I'm so, so sorry Mom."

"Shhh," Finn's hands were gripping her shirt now, hers are running through his thick hair. Finn was so much his father; his hair was just like Christopher's, it's nostalgia and longing and faded memories under her fingertips. "It's going to be ok. Tell me what you're doing with this curtain and I'll help you, we'll sort this all out."

Carole pauses, overwhelmed. Finn's almost a man, in a few years he'll be gone, and her time to be his mother, to be the one that he'll look to to fix and to help and to make it better- it's going to fast, slipping away from her.

"Go on," Burt's voice is soft, encouraging, and she has to smile. Burt already knows this part- about the girls and Kurt doing the Lady Gaga number, and Finn and the boys choosing to do Kiss instead.

"Well, I think that what you said to him really…I think it really made him see, you know…shit." Frustrated, she sighs, "Sorry I- I don't want to say this the wrong way."

"Take your time, I've got plenty."

"You know, Finn's always been that kid that wanted everyone to like him. I don't know, maybe it has to do with the guys I dated; he was always so sad when they would leave and I would be so sad and I think maybe he thought that it was his fault." She's sniffling now, trying to muffle the tears.

"Carole-" His voice is low, sounding concerned.

"No," she cuts him off, wiping at tears, "It's ok. I know I didn't do this perfectly. It's hard…well you know how hard it is, doing this on your own. I did the best I could."

Carole is taking deep breaths, standing still and looking out of her small kitchen window. The sun is setting, and somewhere upstairs is her little boy, and her heart cracks with love for him.

"Somewhere along the line, I think that Finn learned to value what other people think over what he thinks. I never realized how important being popular was to him. Is that naive? I mean, I know most kids want to be popular, but I never thought..." She lets the words drift; she doesn't want to relive Finn's words to Kurt, to tear this fragile truce and clutter the moment with the memory of _those_ words.

"Yeah." Burt isn't a man of many words, and she appreciates this now more than ever. He's probably the first man she's dated who really listens, who has ever really managed to make her feel so present, so important. They're silent for a moment.

"So what was the shower curtain for?" He finally asks, and she smiles again; smiles bright and it almost hurts.

"For Kurt. He made his own Gaga dress out of it- well he was trying. I ended up making most of it and he helped." Carole is laughing now, remembering Finn trying to get that dress on, swearing as the rubber stuck, how earnest and sincere he was, wanting to apologize to Kurt.

"He wanted to show Kurt, to apologize to him. He actually went to school in the dress and everything- he had this speech prepared, oh I don't even remember what it was. About how Kurt has taught him that he needs to stand up for what he believes in, the man he wants to be." She swallows the sound of Burt's laughter, holding it close.

"Burt," softly now, she whispers, "I'm so sorry."

"Carole," There's understanding in his voice and she has to close her eyes.

"No please, let me say this. I promise, I never taught him those words. I've never felt that way, and I swear, he isn't that kind of boy. There was a lot- it was a lot for him, maybe we rushed into moving them in together."

"Yeah," She can hear his sigh through the line, wishing fiercely that she could be with him, "I think maybe we lost our heads a little there. But you know, I think…" He's pausing to think, and she can see him clearly in her head, the way he pushes back his cap to scratch his forehead when he's really working something out, "I think it's going to be ok."

And oh, her smile is brilliant, her heart lit up with his words. She's murmuring something back to him, and Burt is so far away, the space between them is deep and yet somehow less, the weight on her shoulders lighter. She can hear Finn banging on his drums above her, can feel Burt silent and loving on the open end of the phone line, and her body is radiant and filled and she knows they'll work this out. It's there, just on the edge of her fingertips, this promise of so much more for all of them, something they've all wanted for so long without even knowing- a family.


End file.
